Knowledge Prologue

Knowledge Prologue

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Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x reader

Word Count: 475

Warnings: REALLY slow burn, angst, ncn elements, charachte death, Eric being an asshole at the start, hurt/comfort

"Are you ready for tomorrow?"

"No, how could I be?"

"Come on, Ellie, it won't be the end of the world." A slender, red-haired girl with a face dotted with freckles smiled at her, attempting to reassure her, but to no avail, as she too was gripped by anxiety. "So, it's decided." her smile slwowly fading.

Ellie, gazing at the panorama before her, watched as the city below slowly faded with the onset of night. A gentle wind blew, and she tried to shield herself from its cold by wrapping herself in the white blazer draped over her shoulders.

She shrugged, her voice a sigh. "It was decided years ago, Anne..."

Anne looked at her, tears welling up in her eyes. The looming Aptitude Test would separate them, the friendship they had forged would break irreparably.

They could have lied, said everything would be fine, but in that moment, on the rooftop of the building where they had lived for sixteen years and shared countless memories, they realized it would be one of the last times they would see each other.

The redhead approached her friend, resting her head on her shoulder, seeking comfort. Ellie embraced her, allowing a few tears to escape, silently reliving all the moments they had shared together.

But in the end, they had always known. They had become inseparable for a reason, both excluded from the faction that was supposed to be their home, too different from all the other kids dressed in black and white like them, yet at the same time too different from each other to choose the same faction.

Anne was, she was good.

Ellie watched her as she tried to suppress her sobs, hiding within her arms. Her heart was made of gold, rare in its kind. Always ready to help others, hesitant to speak anything but the truth knowing it could hurt someone.

However, the Candor were not pleased with all this caring nature of hers. They were not pleased even with Ellie's silence, especially with her penchant for getting into trouble.

Her mother considered her a disgrace to their family. Ellie's antics tarnished the name her father had built through years of hard work before disappearing, presumably killed by the outcasts, those without a faction.

It wasn't a secret that her mother was more excited for Ellie's Aptitude Test day than Ellie herself. She didn't hide the fact that if Ellie left their faction, she would do everyone a favor.

"I'll miss you," Anne managed to say as she wiped away her tears, her eyes now red and slightly swollen.

Ellie smiled faintly but said nothing, returning her gaze to the landscape before them; the city was fully illuminated now that the sun had completely set, creating a breathtaking view.

"I should go, or they'll wonder where I am. Goodbye, Ellie."

"Goodbye, Anne."

MATERIALIST

-Emmett Cullen

-Jasper Hale

-Carlisle Cullen -You're My Half

Knowledge pt.3

check the other parts here!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x reader

Wordk Count: 6.5k

That night, Michelle couldn't sleep, whether it was due to the snoring of several of her companions or simply because she hadn't yet fully realized where she was.

She chose a bunk bed with Sunny, taking the cot below, figuring that with her habit of sleeping little at night, it would be more comfortable and effective to be underneath.

The beds were uncomfortable, hard as rocks, and sleeping on the floor would probably have been more pleasant, but the other initiates, unlike her, were already deep in the world of dreams.

Michelle sat on the floor with her back against the edge of the bed, gazing ahead at the open showers and bathrooms, a small source of light emanating from there. It was the only light in the entire room.

If it hadn't been for the thin rays of light seeping through the cracks of the door, the room would have been completely engulfed in darkness. She could barely make out the shapes of the beds, let alone who was who.

She pulled out the photo of her and Anne from under the pillow, smiling as she looked at it. She had managed to sneak it into initiation with her, hiding it under the bed while they changed to take their belongings to be incinerated.

She didn't mind seeing her clothes burn; it was like tangible proof that her past no longer existed. Ellie Black was gone; she had been replaced by a better version of herself.

Michelle.

She promised herself to give her best, to push herself to the limit, and to prove to everyone that she was the best by coming out on top. It wouldn't be easy; she was practically starting from scratch unlike many others; she was agile, fast, but lacked the physical strength she would need for the first part of initiation.

She spent the entire night wandering around the dormitory, curious to see if it held any secrets; of course, she found nothing and remained seated at the foot of her bed contemplating her choice to join the Dauntless.

It was done now; she couldn't go back or she would become an outcast, and if there was one thing she would rather do than be cast out from the faction, it was certainly to die. She would throw herself off the cliff if necessary.

She didn't understand where this innate fear of hers was coming from; when she had stepped onto the platform just a few hours earlier, she had been struck by lightning, realizing that it was the right choice.

Her place was with the Dauntless; she just had to learn to live with it.

She took advantage of the fact that everyone was asleep to take a quick shower, which turned into a full-fledged session. She stayed under the water long enough to hear her first companions waking up.

As the water streamed down her body, Michelle scrubbed vigorously at the dirt she had accumulated throughout the day, from climbing onto the platform to jumping off a moving train. She wasn't dirty, just a bit dusty, but she felt weighed down by it, her only thought being to rid herself of that sensation.

She rubbed so many times at different parts of her body that they began to redden, tingling slightly. She ignored the faint burning sensation before getting dressed and putting on the clothes they had issued that evening. They could go pick out clothes of their choice the next day with the points they were given weekly.

Eric had explained to her how things worked in the faction; there was no money, only points, earned by working or, if participating in initiation, given weekly in small amounts for personal indulgences.

Unless one had a private kitchen, everyone ate in the mess hall, saving on food expenses. The rest, besides clothes, were things they could easily do without.

But there was one thing Michelle wanted to get, a sketchbook to start drawing again. In the short time she had spent in that faction, she had felt inspired for many new drawings; she was brimming with ideas; between the cliff, the Pit, and the various tattoos, she had plenty to work with.

"You're an early bird, huh?" chuckled Sunny, still half asleep with a towel in hand for a quick shower.

Michelle smiled at her disheveled hair, resembling a bird's nest in its disorder. "I didn't sleep."

Sunny stopped and looked at her, eyes wide open. "You're crazy. If you don't sleep, you won't have the strength for training."

Her concern made Michelle smile even more. She had a friend.

"I don't need much to feel rested," she replied, pulling her hair into a tight ponytail for the day; it would be the most efficient solution to keep her hair out of her face.

"Maybe not for you, but for your body," Sunny continued as she undressed, stepping into the warm water and sighing at the heat. "It's not good for your head either; you need to sleep a certain number of hours to be fully functional."

Michelle didn't respond, but someone else did in her place. When she heard the voice, she recognized it immediately, rolling her eyes and trying to brush her teeth as quickly as possible.

"There's no need to repeat it to her; she's always been like this. A stubborn head that doesn't understand a thing."

Chloe stepped up to the sink next to Michelle's, splashing water on her face and smiling at the girl beside her. "Isn't that right, Ellie?"

"Ellie? Who's Ellie?" Sunny's voice sounded muffled under the water stream, but both former Candors heard her clearly.

"Our dear Michelle. Her real name is Ellie, or rather, it was," Chloe's tone was sharp for no apparent reason; Michelle had no problem admitting that she had decided to leave her past behind.

"Michelle?" Sunny stepped out of the shower and didn't find her new friend, but instead the girl she had just been talking to and two other guys she remembered being from Michelle's old faction.

"Oh, get used to this," replied one of the guys, the one with a buzz cut.

She looked at him confused, not knowing what he was referring to.

"Ellie takes off, silently. Don't be surprised if she leaves you in the mess to save her own ass," said the other guy, slightly shorter than the first.

She didn't know how to respond honestly, watching them while clutching her towel to her chest, immediately feeling intimidated. The girl smiled at her before turning on her heels and heading back to the dormitory.

After all, it was only six in the morning.

While Sunny was left alone in the dormitory bathrooms, Michelle was exploring the Pit. It was empty, a stark contrast from when they had arrived the day before.

There were few people, just some Dauntless heading to work or simply going to sleep after a long night shift. It was cold, very cold, and Michelle blamed it on the fact that the structure was built into the stone, consequently isolating the warmth.

She wrapped herself in the black leather jacket provided to her; it wouldn't be the most comfortable for training, so she decided to wear a simple hoodie underneath.

Trying to remember where the mess hall was, she crossed the Pit and thankfully found it right in front of her. The day before, they had taken twice as long, having taken the opposite route to see the cliff; maybe it wasn't the labyrinth she had thought it was.

As she entered the mess hall, she was pleasantly surprised to see that it was almost entirely empty, only a few Dauntless were present. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Four, sitting at the same table they had dined at the previous evening.

She decided to sit at the same table as him, directly across. When she sat down, Four looked up and gave a slight smile. "Isn't it a bit early for you, initiate?"

Michelle looked at him, feeling bored from hearing the same thing twice in a short period of time. She ignored him and poured herself a strong cup of coffee, without adding any sugar or milk, receiving a disgusted glance from her instructor.

"What?" she asked, taking a sip from the cup, savoring the pure taste of coffee that filled her mouth.

"Nothing, I just don't know many people who like their coffee plain, and... that's it."

Michelle shrugged, grabbing a slice of toast for breakfast.

She looked around the mess hall to see who was there at that early hour and pleasantly noticed that there wasn't a soul around. Just then, she spotted Eric and Max sitting at a table in the center of the room; had they just arrived?

She narrowed her eyes observing the blond, he seemed bothered by something Max was saying. They spoke in hushed and suspicious tones, one of them calm, relaxed on the bench where he sat, while the other had a cold, furious expression as he listened to what his superior had to say.

"Ignore them, it's for your own good," Four tried to warn her, but Michelle didn't shift her gaze from the unusual pair, continuing to watch them closely, wishing she could read lips at that moment.

Max turned his head slightly and caught Michelle watching them out of the corner of his eye; he whispered something to Eric, who suddenly turned his head to look at the girl.

Michelle decided it might be best to stop staring and resumed her breakfast, trying to ignore the tension building in her body from being caught. Eric's gaze was sharp, cold. It was intimidating.

She tried her hardest not to turn around to see if they were still talking, but glancing at Four, she immediately understood that someone in particular was approaching. She expected to feel a presence sitting at their table any moment, but instead, two hands fell heavily on her shoulders.

"What do we have here?" Eric's voice was almost amused as he began to move his hands over Michelle's shoulders, who was confused and scared at the same time.

Scared not because she had been caught staring, but because it felt like he was giving her a massage. With his thumbs, he started to knead her shoulder blades, and she even found it strangely enjoyable until he found a spot on both sides and pressed down, causing her to straighten up with her back immediately.

Michelle cried out in pain, but Eric didn't seem to have any intention of letting her go.

"Eric, let her go. She hasn't done anything," Four stood up abruptly, attracting the attention of the few people in the mess hall, who began to watch the scene and whisper among themselves.

"I'm not talking to you, Four. Sit down," he glared at his peer, who reluctantly took his seat again. "So, what do we have here, huh? A nosy little initiate?"

Michelle remained silent, and Eric, not appreciating her silence, pressed even harder on her shoulder blades. Michelle gritted her teeth at the unpleasant sensation, not exactly painful, but very uncomfortable.

"If I ask you a question, you have to answer me, initiate," Eric lowered himself to her eye level and whispered into her ear. "Huh? Has someone cut out your tongue already?"

The mocking tone in Eric's voice annoyed her, and before speaking, she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, hoping her voice wouldn't tremble when she spoke. "Nothing."

It came out no more than a whisper, and Eric smiled, a rather unpleasant smile according to Michelle; it was the kind of chilling smile, sadistic.

"Nothing? Are you sure, because a moment ago you seemed very interested in our conversation," now he was whispering too, amused by the situation. Max had told him to let it go, that hers was just too much curiosity, nothing to punish a girl for.

But he saw the perfect opportunity to make her talk, whether she wanted to or not. He had seen her the previous evening, silently around people who talked too much, and his curiosity was evident.

Why wasn't she speaking?

Eric stopped pressing on her shoulders, but he didn't release his grip. He straightened up and gave her two pats on the back.

"Nothing, huh? See how you'll become nothing in no time," he said, walking away without saying goodbye.

Only then did Michelle realize the silence that had fallen over the entire mess hall, causing her to blush slightly and lower her head over her own cup. She resumed sipping her coffee under Four's watchful gaze.

She was afraid she wouldn't make it; Eric's words certainly didn't help. The initiation itself was already tough, she didn't need one of the faction leaders against her as well.

Four noticed the slight trembling of her hands despite her efforts to appear impassive; he sighed, continuing to watch her.

"Don't listen to him, you have a chance like everyone else," his voice was gentle, and Michelle looked at him, grateful for his attempt at reassurance.

But the fear of not making it, of becoming an outcast, had already solidified in her mind. She would have to give her best to succeed, to use all her non-physical skills to win because she knew she didn't have much strength.

"Everything okay? You both look like you've seen a ghost," Lauren, full of energy as usual, took a seat next to Michelle for breakfast. Her good mood waned slightly as she noticed that neither her colleague nor the new recruit had said anything yet.

"Michelle, I told you to be careful. It's not a joke," Four stood up from the table, visibly annoyed.

Lauren turned to Michelle to find out what had happened, curious about her friend's strange behavior, but she ignored her, continuing to drink her cup of coffee.

The rest of the faction didn't take long to wake up; by seven in the morning, the mess hall began to fill up, and Michelle decided it was time to head to the training quarters, even if it was an hour early.

She left Lauren with a nod, which she returned with a smile. As she passed through the doors of the mess hall, she encountered Sunny and other initiates heading to breakfast.

"Hey, where are you going?" Sunny stopped her, grabbing her forearm and pausing with her.

"I'm going to find the gym," she replied, waiting for Sunny to let her go.

"Oh, okay. See you later."

Michelle began to walk through the Pit, trying to figure out where the gym actually was; there were no signs or anything that could indicate where the facility might be.

The Pit had come back to life; children ran recklessly, risking bumping into Michelle at any moment, and several Dauntless headed to work, opening the shops that faced the Pit.

She had to give the impression of being lost because someone touched her shoulder, catching her off guard. She jumped back and heard a raspy laugh.

"Hey, easy there. Didn't mean to scare you!" It was the man Max had been talking to while they waited for all the initiates to jump off the roof.

"Everything okay? Are you lost?" Michelle observed him, getting lost in the intricate tattoos that covered almost all of his skin. The man must have noticed because he smiled and rolled up his sleeves. "Do you like tattoos?"

"Yes," she replied, continuing to admire the ink patterns on his arms, fascinated.

"Where's training happening?" she asked, still captivated by his tattoos.

"See that corridor?" The man pointed to a hallway at the far end of the Pit. "There are stairs, lots of stairs, that will take you straight to where you need to go."

"Thanks," she said, tearing her gaze away from his tattoos to head towards the corridor he'd indicated. But before she could leave, he stopped her. Michelle turned to him, puzzled.

"Feel free to drop by the tattoo shop anytime. Tori and I run it. You could get one yourself." Despite his distinctive appearance, filled with piercings and covered in tattoos from head to toe, he seemed like a genuinely kind person.

He spoke to Michelle with kindness, and there was everything but ill intent in his eyes.

Michelle nodded before leaving.

The hallways were as dark as any other, and she paled at the thought of the number of stairs she'd have to climb to reach the dormitories; stairs upon stairs.

During her journey, she encountered no one, making her feel as if she were in the wrong place. After about five minutes of nothing but stairs, she reached a long, empty, dimly lit corridor. From a distance, she saw iron doors and cautiously opened them.

She was relieved to see that she was in the right place. At that moment, she understood why it took her so long to get there, with all those stairs; it was the interior of an old factory, probably, a vast empty space set up with various machinery and objects for training.

In the center of the room were four mats that she guessed would be used for hand-to-hand combat, while a few meters away, several punching bags were hung from a beam.

On the other side of the room, in a corner, there were machines that she had already seen during one of her explorations in an old abandoned complex. It was a weightlifting area.

"You're early," Four's voice echoed through the empty room, and Michelle turned to try to figure out where he was.

Four was on a bench near the mats, holding a bottle. Michelle shrugged and approached, surveying the place with attentive eyes.

"You never talk?" Four asked curiously, watching her as she moved around the gym.

"I don't like to," Michelle simply replied, touching the punching bags to gauge their weight. When she saw that they didn't budge at her touch, she realized she'd likely end up hurting her knuckles.

"I figured as much. You'll be hot in that sweater during training," Four remarked.

Michelle shrugged again, ignoring him, and Four smiled, mimicking her. In doing so, he earned a glare from her, and to defend himself, he raised his hands in the air.

The door opened again with a loud noise, grabbing both of their attention. Four stood up when he noticed Eric entering with Lauren.

They were an odd pair, with Eric looking ready to kill someone and Lauren walking with all the tranquility in the world. When she saw the initiate, she smiled.

"Always early, I like that," she said as she passed by, giving Michelle a friendly punch on the arm.

However, Eric didn't seem pleased with that small interaction and decided to stay silent, with a bored expression on his face as he took a seat on one of the benches opposite to where Four had placed his belongings.

The latter began reviewing data on a tablet, while Lauren took a seat on the other side of the gym where an area similar to where they were now was set up.

Michelle stood with her hands in her pockets, watching Four tinkering with the tablet and occasionally glancing at the blonde to her right, who seemed intent on wrapping his knuckles.

She didn't realize she was staring until she locked eyes with Eric. She immediately looked away, not wanting to risk getting in trouble like she had an hour before, and fortunately, the other initiates, both interns and transfer ones, diverted Eric's attention from her.

Michelle approached where Four was positioned. She began to feel anxious, unsure of what to expect from the first training session, and she sincerely hoped that Eric was only there to supervise.

It was barely eight in the morning, and his knuckles were already sore, blood staining the wraps he had just put on.

In a few minutes, all eleven transfer initiates gathered in front of Eric and Four, who silently observed the initiates. They waited for silence before speaking.

"The initiation is divided into three different modules: the first is more physical, the second emotional, and the third mental. These three phases will last for two months. After these, if you pass, you'll officially be part of the Dauntless," Four began, walking towards the huge windows, and Michelle was grateful she had brought her jacket.

The sky was overcast, as it had been for the past few days, indicating they wouldn't have a sunny day for a while. One of the windows lacked glass, and they passed through it to enter a rooftop, which was set up with various targets and types of firearms.

"One per station!" Four shouted, standing in front of the table where the weapons were positioned, picking up a couple and approaching the initiates to distribute them. "The three modules carry different weights on your score, so don't worry if you're not good at something; you have a chance to catch up."

"If you're not good, you'll be thrown out," Eric added, entering the rooftop behind them with a nonchalant and bored air. He took his place at the table where Four was handing out the guns.

He reached Michelle and handed her the pistol; it felt heavy in her hands, and if she were honest, she didn't like it. She weighed it, passing it from hand to hand, feeling it.

It didn't feel right in her hands. 

"Now copy my position," Four positioned himself, holding the pistol with both hands, legs slightly apart for balance. "And fire."

His shot was perfect. It hit the center of the target's head.

Michelle began to tremble slightly, feeling awkward with the gun in her hand, and looking around, it seemed like everyone else had already done it. She raised the gun and spread her legs.

Around her, several shots rang out, but few of them hit the target. Even fewer were lethal.

She was the only one who hadn't fired a shot yet. She felt as if the gun would explode in her hand if she did.

She felt Four's presence behind her before seeing or hearing him. "Everything okay?" he asked, looking at the target with her, still devoid of holes.

Michelle nodded slightly, and he looked at her, immediately understanding what the problem was. It wasn't the first time he had seen someone react that way to a gun; it was a natural reaction to be afraid of a firearm.

With a gentle touch, he adjusted her stance, nudging her legs apart a little more with his foot.

"If it helps, close one eye to aim," he said, waiting for her to pull the trigger. Michelle took a deep breath, closing her eyes to try to isolate herself from her surroundings.

She opened her eyes and took aim, still trembling a bit, but when she fired the first shot, she managed to hit the silhouette. Nothing lethal, but she would certainly have lost the use of her right leg if it had been a person.

"Well done," he said before moving on to the person next to her.

Michelle smiled at having managed to pull the trigger and looked around, unconsciously searching for Sunny. She saw her busy shooting at a position a little to the right of her, and when she looked at Sunny's target, she was surprised to see two shots to the head, lethal, and some to the abdomen.

When she realized someone was watching her, she turned, locking eyes with Michelle. Sunny smiled at her, a euphoric expression on her face.

Michelle resumed shooting at her target, but she could only hit the arms or legs. She huffed in frustration at not being able to get closer to the heart or head.

"Is that the best you can do?" Eric's derisive tone caught her off guard, turning her head so quickly it gave her a headache.

She watched him in silence, hoping that after this comment, he would leave to torment another initiate. But he stayed there, arms crossed over his chest, watching her as if she were incapable.

"Shoot."

Michelle turned, the trembling in her hands more pronounced under the critical gaze of one of the leaders. She took a breath and took aim. The shot threw her off balance a bit, feeling the recoil more than before.

Surprisingly, she managed to hit the area between the neck and shoulder.

"See you below the red line, initiate," Eric whispered in her ear.

He left Michelle at her station, annoyed to see so many incompetent people gathered together. His eye fell on a girl, the shortest among them all, who had managed to hit the head, heart, and abdomen with every shot.

He stopped behind her, observing her technique. She was short, lacking muscles, without curves, but she had good technique.

The girl realized his presence behind her and briefly turned her head to see who it was. Seeing Eric, she turned her head back to the target, frightened. The stories from Four and Lauren had terrified her; she wanted to have as little to do with him as possible.

"Name?" his tone was monotone.

"T-Tina," she stammered, glancing to her left to observe Max, who watched the scene suspiciously.

"Not bad," he said, returning to take a round to see how the other initiates were faring.

Tina blushed at the compliment, turning to Max to silently celebrate.

Four kept an eye on him, feeling his gaze on his back, and if he were honest, he was annoyed by that behavior. He turned to look at him, catching him again near the same initiate he had sat next to at breakfast that morning.

What was so special about her? He had been wondering since Max, at breakfast that morning, had told him to keep an eye on Michelle. He hadn't told him why, just to be careful of her movements.

He didn't understand; she was obviously incapable, lacking muscles or strength, and she would be thrown out at the end of the first module. Wasting energy on such a recruit was pointless in his opinion.

They remained on the roof for the entire morning, shot after shot, everyone managed to become familiar with the pistol. Some more than others.

Sunny joined Michelle as soon as Four declared that they would have an hour for lunch, releasing them.

"It was amazing!" exclaimed Sunny, taking Michelle's arm, who, on the contrary, had a rather annoyed expression. Her arms and fingers were tingling from the effort of holding the gun up in the air for hours.

"Don't you like it?" Tina asked, joining the two girls and noticing Michelle's unhappy expression. "I thought it was so cool!"

"You did great," commented Sunny.

"Thank you, you were pretty good too," Tina took Sunny side to talk to her, but they were interrupted by Max, who, in a rather impolite manner, barged into the conversation.

"I, girls, was much better than all of you put together," he puffed up his chest, strutting around like a peacock to show off.

Tina shoved him playfully, laughing. "Yeah, right. That's why Eric came to compliment you," she said proudly, and Michelle felt a twinge of jealousy knowing that he had complimented her, when instead he had told her that she wouldn't even pass to the next module.

Michelle detached herself from the group, irritated by Tina's showing off. She knew it was a bit of an overreaction, she had no reason to take it so personally, but knowing that she was already on thin ice made her even more irritable than before.

"Hey…" Sunny tried to call out to her in vain, Michelle quickened her pace to reach the cafeteria.

She arrived at the cafeteria sooner than expected, overtaking anyone in her way, and when she reached the Pit, she was joined by Sunny. Unconsciously, she relaxed, a more serene expression on her face knowing that her one friend in that faction was by her side.

In many ways, Sunny reminded her of Anne, perhaps it was the fact that she was insistent and wouldn't leave unless she spoke to her.

"Are you sure everything is okay?" she asked, approaching her because of the noise in the cafeteria. A worried expression on her face.

Michelle pondered whether to tell her or if it was too stupid of a reason, but seeing her so concerned, she decided to talk to her about it. "Eric is convinced that I won't pass the first module."

Sunny looked at her first surprised and then angry. "Don't listen to him, we've just started. You have plenty of time to improve, and besides, you weren't even among the worst. Some didn't even hit an arm on the target!"

"I don't know what to say," Michelle shrugged and went to sit at the same table she had chosen since it always seemed to be empty.

"Ignore him, show him that you're the best in here," Sunny clung to her arm, smiling, and Michelle couldn't help but laugh along.

She reminded her too much of Anne.

"Anyway," Michelle lifted her head from her plate when she heard Sunny speaking to her, "What do you think of the other initiates?"

Michelle looked around to locate where the remaining nine initiates were sitting. Most of the former Erudite were sitting together, except for the brunette in front of her; the two Abnegation were sitting by themselves with the lone former Amity.

Then there were her former faction mates, talking amongst themselves on the other side of the cafeteria.

She shrugged. "Nothing special."

"True, but that Patrik over there is really good at shooting. He also seems to be in good shape," Michelle turned to look at the boy sitting with Chloe and Connor, with his usual cocky expression.

Michelle remembered all the times she saw him bullying some poor kid at school; it was obvious he was in good shape. He was the type of person who sailed through every situation, and it was almost normal for him to be so comfortable among the Dauntless.

"I guess you two don't get along from the way you're looking at him," Sunny turned to her, smiling mischievously.

"He's been a jerk since we were kids, that's all," Michelle replied bluntly.

"Yeah, it shows," her friend said lightly, returning to her meal.

The remaining ten minutes passed in silence as they finished eating and headed back to the training quarters. Michelle and Sunny were the first to leave the cafeteria and the first to arrive in the gym, after Four, of course.

He turned to look at them when they entered and then returned to writing something on a whiteboard placed near the various mats used for combat. "Today we start with techniques, we don't want you to get hurt."

"Good," Sunny said, starting to stretch, receiving confused looks from Michelle. "You should stretch too; it will make your muscles hurt less."

Michelle trusted her, especially after Four nodded in agreement with her friend. She stood next to her, copying her movements, and discovered that she was more flexible than she had imagined.

It didn't take more than ten minutes, just enough time for the huge room to fill up again with the transfers.

Michelle looked around and was relieved not to see Eric with them, but rather in the distance with the Dauntless kids and Lauren. Maybe this time she would be able to do her best without feeling intimidated.

She was wrong.

Eric's presence or absence didn't change the fact that she struggled to move the punching bag. She was relieved to see that many of her other classmates were in the same situation, although not exactly as bad.

Four moved from initiate to initiate to correct their form and give advice on how to improve, but when he came to her, he remained silent, observing her.

"You lack strength," he remarked, moving from her right side to her left. Michelle felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. "But you're fast, very fast. Use that to your advantage."

He helped her improve her form, slightly bending her back and then pointing out critical points to strike. She felt slightly relieved to know that she wasn't completely lost, but that she simply needed to focus more on her tactics than strength.

Four had been kind in correcting her mistakes, in highlighting her weakness, but she knew that when Eric passed by, he could bury her. 

As she continued to hit the punching bag, she thought about how much harder than expected it would be to pass the initiation; she never imagined it would be so tough. Had something changed?

Towards the end of the training, Four stopped them and ordered them to pair up according to what was written on the whiteboard. Michelle paused for a moment to catch her breath and, walking towards the whiteboard, saw that her name was not paired with anyone.

She looked at Four in confusion, who approached her. "You're odd, one of you had to be with me."

Everyone took their places on the mats, and Four began to speak. "Now apply what you've done so far between yourselves. Don't hit each other hard; it's just to get the hang of the movements."

He turned to Michelle, giving her a small smile. "You start."

Initially, she was worried about having to train with their instructor, thinking he would be too harsh, but instead, it was pleasant; the movements were fluid, and every mistake he corrected, showing her a more effective way to defend or attack.

"Four!" all the initiates stopped to watch Eric advance towards them, a malicious grin on his face. "Allow me to give a demonstration."

Four looked at him grimly, not pleased with his tone and behavior. He approached them and took his place in front of Michelle, before casting a brief glance at the other initiates.

"Continuing like this will get you nowhere," he said sternly. "You have to prove that you're the best for us to choose you."

He assumed an attacking position, and Michelle watched him, immediately going into defense mode. She tried to hide the trembling in her hands as people began to surround them to watch the scene.

Everyone knew Michelle wouldn't come out of this without a bit of blood. Especially Four.

"Now watch, and maybe you'll learn something," Eric said before turning his attention back to Michelle, immediately noticing her insecurity and trembling. He smiled, pleased with her reaction.

Eric began to circle, forcing Michelle to move. He waited a few seconds before taking a step and then attacking, which she immediately noticed, allowing her to dodge the punch coming her way.

He was surprised, he had to admit.

After the first missed strike, he focused on the poor girl, launching blow after blow but failing to land a hit. Sunny watched them tense, ready to assist her friend as soon as something happened.

Four was surprised; he had noticed her speed but underestimated her tactics; Michelle could anticipate Eric's moves.

Eric, unlike Four, was more pissed off and annoyed than surprised. Sure, it was lasting longer than he wanted, but the fact that he missed her by inches was infuriating him.

Their skirmish picked up speed, and Michelle began to miss shots; her anxiety was starting to get the better of her. Her movements became less precise, and with a lunge, Eric managed to graze her, making him realize that this was his chance.

Michelle tried to dodge his strikes, but with each blow, Eric was getting closer and closer to hitting her. She was short of breath, her heart racing as she struggled to hold her ground.

The only thing she could focus on were Eric's words, telling her that she wouldn't make it, that she would be eliminated at the end of the first module, and as much as she wanted his words to motivate her, they had the opposite effect.

They dragged her down.

She got distracted for a moment, just a second, and in that moment, Eric managed to land a hit on her cheekbone. Michelle fell to the ground, and for a few seconds, she felt nothing, neither the people around her nor the pain.

But then it came.

She gritted her teeth in pain, the sharp sensation preventing her from opening her eyes. It felt as if her entire face had been shattered into a thousand pieces by that simple punch.

In the background, she could hear Eric's voice speaking to the initiates, but she couldn't focus on his words because of the intense pain.

She remained on the ground for a while, not too long, because when she got up, Eric was still standing in front of her, proud with his arms crossed over his chest as he looked down at her.

He smiled at her. "That's how you get yourself kicked out," he exclaimed to the other initiates before dismissing them.

It was already six o'clock.

Some of them stayed to watch Michelle for a few more seconds before heading back to the dormitory to take a shower. She remained still, holding the right side of her face with her hand, the pressure alleviating the pain.

She stared at Eric, who was still on the mat. He looked back at her, pleased with the blow he had landed; it would leave a nasty bruise if it hadn't already broken it.

They locked eyes, a silent promise to make each other's lives hell.

Omg i need capther 4😭😭😭

you ask and you receive!

Knowledge pt.4

check the other parts here!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Ppairing: Eric Coulter x Reader

Word count: 6k

"You've got quite a nasty bruise," remarked Sunny as she sat down beside her on the bed, later that evening after their first training session. "You're lucky it's not broken."

"It hurts," Michelle said, still holding the ice pack against her cheekbone. The icy sensation kept her awake. She had just woken up from a long nap after returning from training.

"Did you go to the infirmary?"

"No, Four checked it," Michelle recalled Four; he had stayed back to assess the damage, having seen the hard hit she took. He commended her agility and speed in dodging blows, encouraging her to continue improving those aspects of her technique.

But she lacked strength. If she had attacked Eric, she would have lost immediately.

"Hmm..." Sunny got up to climb onto her own bed, bidding her goodnight.

Michelle lay awake in bed, staring at the cot above hers, listening to the snores of some of her comrades. She wasn't sleepy at all.

She remained lying in bed for what felt like an eternity, waiting for her comrades to fall completely asleep. She didn't want any of them to rat her out for leaving the dormitory at night.

When she felt like everyone was asleep, she waited another five minutes to be sure; then, from under her pillow, she took out the photo of her and Anne, tracing her best friend's face with her fingertip.

It had only been a day since they parted ways, yet it felt like an eternity.

She quickly got up and grabbed her boots, not putting them on right away to avoid making noise. She opened the metal door very slowly and slipped out, donning her boots and covering herself against the cold with a leather jacket.

The corridors were completely empty that night, like the days to come. It had become Michelle's routine to sleep after training and then spend the entire night training on her own.

She found it easier to train when no one was there to bother her, and she was lucky not to find anyone else training at night, or she would have gotten into trouble in no time.

And she didn't want to be face to face with Eric again, who, after their sparring on the first day of initiation, had finally left her alone. It was as if she didn't exist anymore, and she was grateful for that. His attention was the last thing she wanted.

She didn't know why Eric had decided to stop tormenting her, making snide remarks about her incapability and weakness, and maybe it was better that way. Eric himself wasn't pleased with such an order, received from higher-ups.

He had to leave her alone, let her follow her path.

During that first week, Michelle found herself spending more and more time with Sunny, a ray of sunshine in that cold, dark place. Having a friend had helped her a lot, especially with her little aiming problem.

She had improved at shooting, finally managing to make critical hits on the target. Nothing extraordinary, but it was better than how she had started a week earlier.

However, that night someone joined her in the gym, scaring her to death when they spoke.

"Isn't it a bit late?" Lauren's voice made her jump, causing the Dauntless leader to chuckle. "You're always so lost in thought that you never notice me."

"You're quiet, it's different," Michelle replied, watching her approach, dressed in heavier clothes.

She didn't know whether to go back to training or grab her things and leave; she was just waiting for Lauren's reaction to know what to do. But when the woman started taking off the extra clothes, she was almost surprised.

Lauren approached her, now wearing only leggings and a long-sleeved shirt. "You're weak."

Michelle rolled her eyes, returning to hitting the punching bag. "I hadn't figured that out," she replied sarcastically, annoyed at how obvious it was.

She trained every afternoon and every night, yet she couldn't put on muscle; all her comrades were starting to get stronger, more defined, while she remained stagnant.

Lauren smiled before moving closer to the punching bag to look her in the face. "The fact is, you don't eat enough. For breakfast, you just have a cup of coffee, for lunch, you stay light because you're afraid of feeling sick in the afternoon, and often you skip dinner in the evening."

She kept hitting the bag, her knuckles and arms throbbing with pain, but she gritted her teeth and kept going. She thought about Lauren's words and had to admit she was right.

She slowed down her punches, eventually stopping to look at her, expecting some advice or something of the sort. Lauren immediately realized she had her full attention and smiled.

"You need to eat more, have more substantial meals, otherwise you burn more than you eat. You should gorge on meat, in short, eat as much as you can, and for breakfast, go for eggs maybe."

Michelle was used to eating little even when she was in her old faction; she and Anne preferred to grab food and move to a less crowded place, so they could carry less food with them.

She nodded, turning back to look at the punching bag and then at her knuckles, bleeding. The only reason the bag wasn't stained with blood was because of its black color.

"Come on, I'll show you how to wrap them properly," Lauren took her by the arm, dragging her towards one of the benches scattered around the gym.

As the woman got up to fetch the wraps, Michelle turned her head to gaze at the sky outside the windows, still as black as pitch. It must have been around four in the morning.

Lauren returned shortly after with a small white box and knelt in front of her; she took out a white bottle, cotton, and the wraps from it.

"It's going to sting," she warned before dipping the cotton into the bottle and dabbing it on Michelle's knuckles. Michelle gritted her teeth and closed her eyes; she felt her hands catch fire, but fortunately, the sensation didn't last long.

With great care, Lauren cleaned her knuckles with the disinfectant before taking the wraps and, showing her the most effective way to do it, wrapped them around her knuckles. As she handled the wraps, she glanced at her stealthily, wondering why they wanted her to be kept under observation.

She would never disobey orders, but she wondered why she, of all people, was important. Unlike her, Eric was anything but pleased with the orders, annoyed by the obligation to leave her alone.

She couldn't understand Eric's behavior; he hadn't always been like this, yet now his greatest pleasure was to make people around him miserable, showing off his superiority at every opportunity.

"There, all done," she whispered when she secured the wraps to ensure they wouldn't come loose during the day. Lauren stood up, dusting off her knees, and took a seat beside the girl, giving her a light shove. "Listen to my advice, eat more."

Michelle nodded again without taking her eyes off her wrapped knuckles.

She was grateful that the fights hadn't started yet; she wouldn't stand a chance against anyone. She was fast, able to avoid getting hit, but that wouldn't earn her any points.

Remembering something Lauren had said to her one of the first times they spoke, she turned to her, catching the woman a bit off guard with her ice-blue eyes. She had never noticed it before.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, I'm here for that."

"Will you help me become stronger?" Lauren was confused by that question, and Michelle clarified, "I can't win if I'm just on the defensive."

The woman smiled at her more than before and got up from the bench, heading towards the mat. "Come?"

Michelle followed her onto the mat, standing in front of her, waiting for instructions, but Lauren had something else in mind.

"Let's pretend we're fighting. I won't hit you. I just want to see what tactics you have and how you move." Lauren took a fighting stance, and Michelle immediately copied, bringing her hands up in front of her face.

They started circling the mat just as she had done with Eric, waiting for an attack, and soon after, Lauren lunged at her. Michelle noticed the slight lunge she made before actually throwing herself at her and dodged it.

They went on like this for a good ten minutes, with Lauren attacking and Michelle staying on the defensive until the leader called off the fight.

This time, Michelle didn't feel out of breath. Sure, she had gone easier than with Eric, but she was pleased to notice that at least her stamina had increased.

"You're good, but you're right. If you only stay on the defense, you won't win." Lauren observed her for a moment before creating a plan in her head. "Try this: you're quick, use it to your advantage to hit critical points like the throat or temple."

Lauren approached her. "Now I'll show you how to do it, and you have to try it on me, okay?"

Michelle nodded and watched Lauren's movements, trying to copy them immediately afterward. Unsuccessfully, however.

They continued to train, but she began to get frustrated finding herself on the ground over and over again. She huffed, getting up for the hundredth time and getting into position.

"Think of something that pisses you off or someone you want to smash in the face," the leader tried to encourage her.

Michelle closed her eyes and thought of something that annoyed her, so much so that she hated it. It didn't take long for Eric's image to appear in her mind, telling her she couldn't do it, that she was a liability and a waste of resources.

She opened her eyes and nodded to Lauren to start, the woman in front of her glad to see something different in her eyes.

Lauren lunged at her, and with speed, Michelle dodged the blow, attempting to strike back at her temple, almost succeeding. "Better, keep it up!" Lauren encouraged her.

This time, Michelle took the initiative, attacking Lauren's defense, trying to hit her throat, but only managed to strike her stomach, causing her to step back.

They circled on the mat for a bit before Lauren returned to the attack, landing blow after blow and only managing to hit Michelle's shoulder once. However, Michelle didn't give up and countered, hitting her abdomen and blocking her blows.

In a moment of distraction, though, Lauren managed to sweep her feet out from under her, tripping her.

Michelle stood there, tired and sweaty, trying to catch her breath.

"That's better. Once you eat more and build muscle, you could really become one of the best among the transfers," Lauren said, sitting down on the mat, exhausted from the workout.

It had been a while since she sparred with someone so fast. It was hard to block her blows, let alone land one unless she was distracted.

"Pay attention to your feet too, otherwise you'll end up on your ass," both girls laughed.

“Why could I be one of the best?” It was a legitimate question that had come to mind as soon as Lauren mentioned it, and Michelle straightened up to look her in the face, her muscles sore.

Lauren sighed, pushing her hair away from her face. “The guys I train with assume that just because they're Dauntless-born, they have a guaranteed spot here. But you have good technique, you're a natural force.”

Michelle blushed at the compliment and looked down, fiddling with her fingers.

“How are you doing in the rankings?” Lauren asked her.

"Tenth," Michelle said, turning to look at the board on the wall. Thankfully, her name wasn't below the red line; for now, they were only based on results from pistol training.

But it made her anxious to be so close to the red line, it was the last safety net, and one mistake would be enough to drop her below.

"Not bad, especially considering you started from scratch," Michelle shot her a glare; she knew those weren't good results, she didn't want to hear nonsense. Lauren raised her eyebrows.

They remained silent for a while, and when Michelle turned her head, she noticed the sky beginning to lighten. She got up from the mat to grab her things and head back to the dormitory for a well-deserved shower.

"It's been a pleasure. If you ever need to train again, you know who to ask," Lauren grabbed her belongings too and left before Michelle, closing the doors behind her. Michelle wondered what she was doing out at that hour dressed like that.

It wasn't her business, and as she had come to understand during that week, it was better not to pry into other people's affairs. She decided to take all the time in the world to return to the dormitory, not wanting to face everyone else just yet.

She decided to take a different route and found herself in one of the corridors overlooking the Pit. The shops were all still closed, naturally, but she noticed the tattoo parlor was already open, its lights on.

Deciding to pass by, she walked past the staircase that would lead her down to the Pit and then back to the dormitory. She stopped in front of it and saw movement inside, the same man who had helped her find the gym on the first day of initiation.

Michelle paused to look at the designs on display. She didn't realize the man was approaching the entrance until she saw him standing beside her out of the corner of her eye.

They silently observed the drawings for a while. "Do you like them?" he asked without shifting his gaze from the window.

"They're not my style, but they're nice," Michelle replied.

"Do you want to take a look inside?" the man moved towards the entrance, glancing back to see if she would follow. He smiled when she joined him after a second of hesitation. "I'm Tyson, by the way. We never properly introduced ourselves."

"Michelle."

"I know, I've heard about you," his tone was amused as he glanced at her, but Michelle seemed not to appreciate it. "Don't worry, only good things. Except for the punch you took from Eric on the first day."

Tyson laughed, and Michelle ignored him, moving away to approach one of the many columns where several designs were hung. They were beautiful; she got lost in observing them one by one, but only a few were to her liking.

She wasn't particularly fond of the designs themselves; she preferred geometric shapes, interweaving lines, or similar things.

Tyson joined her. "Do you want one? It's early, but I could make an exception for you."

Michelle looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Lauren and Tori weren't kidding; you're not much of a talker, huh?"

He started to walk away, somewhat disappointed that he couldn't seem to have a conversation with the girl, but her voice stopped him. "If I draw something for you, would you tattoo it?"

Her question was unusual; he had never had anyone want to tattoo something they had drawn before, but he nodded. "Do you have something in mind?"

It was her turn to nod. "I'll be back in a few days."

When she reached the dormitory, it was probably around seven in the morning. Most of her companions were already up and having breakfast, but when she went to take a shower, she encountered Tina trying to dry her tears in front of the mirror.

Michelle hesitated, contemplating if sneaking away before Tina noticed her would be a good idea, but the girl turned towards her, looking at her. 

Tina had red and swollen eyes, her face twisted in a sad expression, and she sniffled occasionally. Saying that Michelle felt uncomfortable would be an understatement.

It was embarrassing, and she decided to move towards the showers, hoping to avoid the impending conversation, but she didn't have time to undress and turn on the water before Tina's voice distracted her.

"What am I doing wrong?" her voice was interrupted by sobs and crying. Michelle leaned her head against the shower door before turning towards her, trying to figure out what she wanted her to do.

"I do, I do everything for him! And he treats me like this!" she started crying again, and feeling guilty, Michelle approached. Tina quickly hugged her and cried on her shoulder.

Michelle stood still for several minutes before someone else entered the bathroom, luckily, it was Chloe. The girl always had the need to show off and help anyone in trouble to improve her image, and things hadn't changed at all.

When she saw Tina in tears, she reached her, forcefully pushing Michelle aside. "What did you do?" she accused, turning towards her and stroking Tina's hair.

"It's not her fault," Tina managed to say through tears.

Michelle didn't stay to watch the scene unfold and immediately stepped under the hot water jet, cursing as she remembered the wraps. She removed them and winced as the sensation of the water droplets hit the open wounds. It wasn't pleasant.

Fortunately, Michelle heard Tina's complaints fade away from the bathroom, indicating she would have the chance to get ready in peace.

She wished she could stay under the hot water jet for hours, but she remembered Lauren's advice to have a good breakfast, so she forced herself to step out and get ready. She put on simple black sweatpants, comfortable shoes, and a hoodie, knowing that today they would start hand-to-hand combat.

She braided her hair into two loose braids and hurried out of the dormitory, reaching the cafeteria in a few minutes. Every muscle in her body was on fire as she tried not to bump into anyone while wrapping her knuckles in motion. They were still bleeding, and she didn't want to mess around, especially not while eating with the smell of blood in the air.

When she arrived at the cafeteria, she scanned the room for Sunny and soon spotted her, sitting with Four, Max, and another initiate she had never talked to before. She joined them and took a seat next to her friend, who greeted her with a big hug.

"There you are! I was wondering where you were; you weren't anywhere when I woke up," her cheerful tone made Michelle smile as she grabbed scrambled eggs and, of course, her usual cup of coffee.

Four looked up upon hearing Sunny and glanced at her friend next to her, confused, wondering where she was, and especially why she was out of the dormitory when it wasn't allowed. He shrugged it off, maybe he had misunderstood.

He didn't stay long to listen to the guys' conversation and grabbed his things to head to the training quarters, finding Eric already there. He was standing in front of the whiteboard, engrossed in something.

Eric slightly turned his head upon earing Four entering, then returned his gaze to the whiteboard. "They're odd, one won't be fighting today," Eric said simply when Four joined him, maintaining a certain distance.

That made Eric smile.

Four glanced over the pairs Eric had created, and when he reached the end, he saw Michelle's name alone. He furrowed his brows and turned to Eric. "Why Michelle? There are initiates worse than her."

"Because she's not capable, she lacks strength, and the sooner she fights, the sooner she'll end up below the red line, which the higher-ups don't want, and you know that well, Four," his tone was serious as he spoke without looking at him, standing straight, still irritated by the orders that had been strictly given to the two of them, Lauren, and Max.

"No, I don't know. I've seen less capable people than her, and we both have seen how capable she is," he insisted.

Eric turned towards him, a displeased smirk on his face as he took a step closer. He was slightly taller, just enough to assert dominance. "Because I've decided so, don't contradict me, Four."

When Michelle and Sunny reached the quarters, they were surprised to see some of their companions already there, positioned in front of the blackboard near the mats.

"They must be the pairs, come on!" Sunny grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her in front of the blackboard, and indeed, she was right; there were the pairs for the day.

Arlo - Connor Patrick - Thomas Bowie - Andy Chloe - Max Tina - Sunny Michelle -

Michelle?

Furrowing her brows, Michelle turned to find Four, ignoring Tina's arrival; she walked away from the group to join him on one of the benches, but before he even looked up, he responded.

"It wasn't my choice," he said.

"It was mine," Eric's icy voice sent shivers down Michelle's spine, and she immediately stiffened. "Consider it a favor. Now, join the other initiates."

Turning to look at him, she clenched her fists, imagining punching him in the nose. Still tense, she nodded and walked towards her companions, trying to ignore the anger his presence alone stirred within her.

He was insolent, arrogant, and above all, he was a jerk.

She was relieved to know it wasn't just her perception; Tyson had told her some stories about the young leader when he was an initiate as she spent the morning in his shop. Tyson's company was one she was starting to appreciate more and more as the days passed.

"So? You're not fighting?" Max asked when she took a seat among them, arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face.

She shook her head.

"How come?" Max smiled, and Michelle wished she could wipe that smirk off his face; his inability to be serious for five minutes straight was exhausting.

"I fight tomorrow, we're odd," Michelle simply replied, taking a seat on the floor, ready to endure hours of combat without being able to participate.

On one hand, she was grateful; she had the opportunity to study the fighting style of all her companions, which would help her a lot when it was her turn. But the fact that she, of all people, had been chosen to sit out among them gnawed at her.

It hadn't been Four's decision, but Eric's.

Was it another way of telling her she was incapable? Did she really suck that much? Didn't she deserve to be there with them? Was she not up to their standards?

The more she thought about it, the more she felt tears welling up at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. But she couldn't wallow in self-pity, not with Chloe staring at her from across the mat with an air of superiority.

She would prove to everyone that that was her place. Not theirs.

"Arlo and Connor! On the mat!" Eric shouted, grabbing the attention of the two boys.

They took their places on the mat facing each other, and Arlo seemed much more prepared than Connor; he had a confident air and a stance ready to attack. Although his muscles weren't well-defined, Michelle could see them as he brought his hands up to his face.

Connor, on the other hand, seemed almost awkward in front of him, his cocky and impertinent demeanor from when he was with his little group of friends nowhere to be seen. Michelle smiled at seeing him struggle.

"Begin!" Four signaled the start of the match, and the two boys began circling the mat, waiting for one of them to strike first.

They went on for a good five minutes, and Eric's expression became increasingly bored and frustrated, playing with the piercing on his lip as if to entertain himself somehow.

Michelle had to admit that small action was quite attractive.

When she refocused her attention on her companions after Sunny nudge her with her elbow, she saw Arlo take the first step, closing the distance between them. This caused Connor to retreat and go on the defensive.

"We're not at the playground, let's go!" Eric huffed, and the two boys glanced at him for a split second before turning their attention back to each other.

Arlo closed his eyes for a fraction of a second before reopening them and landing a blow to Connor's face, which he barely parried by bringing his arms up to shield himself. They began grappling, with Arlo on the offensive and Connor on the defensive.

Arlo lunged at him, trying to bring him down, but Connor managed to grab him around the waist and, despite being shorter, he managed to hurl him across the mat.

"Go, Connor!" Chloe cheered, clapping her hands.

"Keep it up!" Patrik chimed in.

Michelle watched them, still somewhat envious that she had never been able to be friends with them when they were kids. But that didn't matter now; she would prove herself to be better than them.

"You'll regret this," Arlo gritted his teeth, getting back up and charging at Connor.

They resumed exchanging punches, occasionally attempting to take each other down without success. Arlo was stronger and taller, but Connor seemed to have better balance and was thinking more with his head than with his fists.

They remained on the mat for half an hour, and just when everyone thought the match would go on indefinitely, Arlo began ruthlessly attacking his opponent after taking a nasty right hook to the face.

He grabbed Connor's head from behind his neck, forcefully bringing it down to bash against his knee. Connor's nose immediately started bleeding, and he brought his hands to his face to try to stem the flow of blood, but Arlo showed no mercy.

He continued to strike wherever he could, targeting the protected face, stomach, and sides. Anywhere he could land a blow.

"Enough! I surrender!" Connor exclaimed, falling awkwardly to the ground after a vicious punch to his left temple.

Michelle observed his fragile figure curled up on the mat, staining it with blood from his undoubtedly broken nose; then, she shifted her gaze to Arlo, standing next to him, looking down at Connor with empty eyes. He was panting, his face flushed as he watched drops of sweat fall onto the mat.

"What a mess," Michelle whispered, and Sunny turned to look at her, tearing her eyes away from the battered boy in front of her.

"Yeah, I didn't think they'd make us fight to this extent."

"No, I mean the mat," Michelle emphasized, realizing that her friend had interpreted her statement differently.

"Do we have to fight like that too?" Tina, who had sat down next to Michelle, leaned forward to look at Sunny, waiting for an answer. The brunette shrugged.

Michelle thought about how stupid Tina had been to fill herself with earrings and get two piercings at that stage, the only physical one among the three. She would find herself receiving punches from Sunny in a couple of hours, and the girl wasn't stupid; it was obvious that she would target those sensitive areas.

Two Dauntless boys carried Connor to the infirmary. He hadn't lost consciousness, but the blow to his temple had been strong enough to rob him of his balance for a while.

The next two fighters got on the mat without waiting for someone to call them, and only now did Michelle realize what her friend was talking about. Patrik was really big.

In that short week, he had managed to put on an impressive amount of muscle, and Thomas swallowed nervously. Despite this, he showed confidence.

"Begin!" Eric exclaimed, starting to walk around the mat.

Michelle thought that this fight would also last half an hour like the previous one, but Patrik wasted no time and attacked Thomas without giving him a chance to react. He was fast and strong.

Thomas took blows to the throat, making him gasp for breath and stagger. Patrik grabbed him by the arm to pull him closer, elbowing him in the nose, causing more blood to drip onto the mat.

With his left foot, he made him fall and got on top of him, blocking every attempt at defense. Patrik started hitting him in the face, punch after punch, until Thomas stopped trying to defend himself, leaving everyone with a lump in their throats.

"Why doesn't he stop it?" Tina whispered, and Michelle turned to look for Four, but when she didn't see him, she looked for Eric.

What she saw didn't sit well with her at all. Eric was enjoying himself.

"Now that's enough," his voice was almost cheerful, light, very different from before when Connor had withdrawn from the fight.

Four arrived from behind them and bent down to help Thomas, his face disfigured due to swelling and blood, but surprisingly the boy refused assistance and, staggering a bit, got up and headed towards the infirmary on his own.

"Try not to fall into the abyss!" Eric teased, observing Thomas's unstable figure as he moved away from the scene.

"What a jerk," someone whispered in her ear.

"Indeed," Michelle replied to the unfamiliar voice and saw the boy who had sat with them at breakfast. She couldn't remember his name, it was something like Brownie though.

The aforementioned boy got up and got on the mat, soon joined by another boy whom she had never spoken to.

"Who's that?" Michelle asked Sunny.

Sunny turned to her friend, then back to the two boys. "Oh, I think it's Andy? If I'm not mistaken, he was an Erudite with me."

"You don't remember if he was with you?" Tina chimed in.

Sunny shrugged. "I think so, but he was always with the Dauntless. He always hung out with them at school, and if you notice, during meals he's always sitting with them."

"Hmm."

"When you're ready," Four initiated yet another fight, and this time Andy wasted no time. They were both lean but with some muscle, the only physical difference being that Bowie perhaps had about twenty centimeters more than his opponent.

Andy was skilled, but one thing Michelle noticed was that he looked at the point he wanted to hit before striking. However, Bowie seemed unable to grasp his strategy and showed great clumsiness in trying to block the attacks.

She noticed the difference between the first two fights, especially the second one, and this one; here, they seemed like two boys training, fighting against each other without exaggeration, whereas before it seemed like if Eric hadn't ended the fight, one of them would have ended up dead.

Bowie managed to block some blows and even land one himself, but with a quick move, Andy managed to make him lose balance, and when he fell, he hit his head hard on the ground.

"Ow," the boys standing still watching the fight exclaimed.

Bowie grabbed his head with his hands, rolling onto his side. He cursed in pain, and Andy, still standing, turned to look at Eric behind him; the blond nodded at him.

Andy turned back and with a kick to the temple, he knocked out his opponent, celebrating his victory as some of his Erudite friends applauded for him.

Two more Dauntless carried away his limp body. Michelle watched the boy's body being taken away, realizing only now that she would end up below the red line by force, probably becoming the twenty-second with zero points.

Her hands began to tremble at the thought of having to really give her all to make it to the top; initially, she didn't think it would be too difficult, she could easily win by following Lauren and Four's advice, but her fellow initiates were brutal.

She feared the moment when she would have to face Patrik or Arlo, who seemed the most brutal.

She was fast, but their strength was too much to ignore.

"Max, Chloe, on the mat!"

Chloe arrived confident, chest out and head held high, and Michelle hoped with all her might that she would get her ass kicked, and so it was. She managed to put up a good fight against Max, knowing where to strike while the boy acted on instinct, blindly.

But when Max managed to grab her, it was her end.

Chloe got up unsteadily, covering her face, crying. Max's punches had been strong, too strong against her delicate face, and Michelle couldn't hide a satisfied smirk seeing the girl's disfigured face.

It was time for the final showdown, almost three hours after the training began, and it was Sunny's turn to take her place on the mat.

"Good luck," Michelle said, watching her friend rise, who turned to smile at her.

Tina's smile, however, vanished when she realized she would actually have to fight against a friend. "Ready?" she asked.

Sunny didn't answer, waiting for the start of the match. Eric ordered them to begin, and Sunny started circling.

Tina looked worried, her movements uncertain. With each move Sunny made, Tina went on the defensive, ready to block any blow. Sunny struck first, and her opponent covered her face, leaving her abdomen exposed.

And Sunny struck right there.

Tina doubled over, screaming, and soon the gray shirt she was wearing began to darken around the belly button area; she lifted the shirt, exposing the belly button piercing, which was bleeding.

She looked at Sunny with a hurt expression. "What the hell!"

"Stop playing around!" Eric grumbled, annoyed, watching the two girls. Sunny briefly turned to look at the young leader, and Tina took the opportunity to throw a punch.

Sunny recoiled immediately and began hitting Tina, who was too weak to defend herself. She had no defense technique, just raising her hands in front of her face, leaving all other areas exposed, and Sunny repeatedly hit her left ear.

The girl fell to the ground, screaming in pain. Sunny stepped back, continuing to hop around to stay ready in case the girl got back up, but Tina seemed to show no signs of getting up.

Sunny relaxed, lowering her fists and looking at Four, who had moved to her side. "What should I do?" she asked him.

Four sighed and indicated to Max, who was watching the scene angrily, to help him lift Tina up.

"The fight isn't over," Eric said, remaining where he was, his arms as usual crossed over his chest.

Michelle hated to agree with him, but what had just happened couldn't be considered a fight; a couple of punches, and it was over?

"Don't you think it's time to end it?" Four said through clenched teeth as he gently lifted the girl.

"If she can't get up on her own, she can consider herself out of the initiation."

"It's not fair!" Max exclaimed loudly, receiving a deadly glare from Eric, who laughed in his face.

"Not fair?" he laughed. "Your little friend can't make sensible choices, and you think it's fair to let her win?"

"No, but-"

"No buts!" When Eric shouted, everyone fell silent, even the other initiates on the other side stopped to watch the scene from afar. "Either she gets up, or she's out. Her choice."

Eric remained impassive.

Four let go of Tina's arm, making sure she didn't fall to the ground badly, and walked away from the scene. Even Max, with much reluctance, stepped away from the mat.

Tina, still on the ground, sobbed. She tried to pull herself up, very slowly, and Sunny watched, waiting to see what to do.

When she got back on her feet, she wiped away her tears with her sleeve and got back into an attacking position. She lunged at Sunny, but Sunny blocked her, hitting her again on the ear where she had already made her earrings bleed.

Tina fell onto the mat, bringing an end to the fight.

hot evil characters who i want to fix but will make me cry if i actually meet them in real life>>>>>>

Knowledge pt.10

check here for the orther parts!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Michelle struggled to piece together the hazy fragments of the previous night while the pain in her head intensified. Her disoriented state made it difficult to grasp the reality of her situation. When she finally dragged herself out of bed and ventured to the cafeteria, the noise and chaos only exacerbated her discomfort.

Her eyes scanned the bustling room for Sunny, hoping for a familiar face amidst the clamor. She found Sunny at a table, surrounded by others she vaguely recognized. As Michelle approached, she prepared herself for the disapproval she anticipated. Instead, Sunny greeted her with a knowing smile, which only deepened Michelle's confusion.

The table’s occupants included Four, who appeared absorbed in a conversation with a girl about something related to the Wall. Bowie, with his tired eyes and somber expression, sat beside him. To Michelle’s surprise, a familiar face she couldn’t quite place joined her at the table.

“Good morning! The sun is shining, and I heard you finally woke up,” the guy said cheerfully, giving Michelle a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Don’t torment her,” Tyson said, taking a seat to her left and offering a polite greeting to his companions. “Rough night, huh? Where did you disappear to after a certain point, darling?”

Michelle was about to respond when Sunny interrupted. “So, you came to the party? I didn’t see you.”

“Yes, that might be my fault, sweetheart,” he said, leaning in closer and throwing an arm around Michelle’s shoulders. “I found our dear friend here trying to sneak away without even stepping foot into the party. Drink water, lots of it. It’ll help with the headache.”

Sunny’s smirk widened as she watched Michelle, who now felt an uncomfortable sense of self-consciousness. The combination of her headache and the attention made her increasingly uneasy. “What?” she croaked, her voice still rough from sleep.

“I wanted to fill you in on what you missed last night,” the guy continued. “We thought you had either hidden away in the dorms or, worse, in the gym. But it seems you had an equally interesting evening.”

At those words, the guy to her right, who had been chewing on his eggs, turned to her. As he realized what Sunny was referring to, he almost choked on his food, unable to suppress his laughter.

Michelle glanced between Sunny and the others, her confusion growing. “What? What’s going on?” she demanded, her voice rising in frustration.

Sunny’s grin was now almost playful. “Oh, just some fun details about the party and your eventful evening,” she said cryptically.

Michelle’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and she tried to piece together what had transpired. As the fragments of memory began to surface, she hoped that the information she’d missed could help her make sense of the bewildering situation she found herself in.

Tyson's chuckle only added to Michelle's growing sense of dread. "Well, let’s just say whoever you spent the night with left a mark," he said with a smirk. As Michelle’s confusion deepened, Tyson pointed to a spot on her neck, which seemed to radiate an inexplicable sensitivity. "Your prince charming left a nice hickey here and here."

"And you told me there wasn’t anyone interesting, yet…" Sunny teased, her tone light but her gaze scrutinizing. "Anyway, nice to meet you, Sunny," she added, turning to the two men beside her.

"Tyson."

"Axl," the man who had been with her the night before replied. Michelle’s memory of him began to crystallize, but it was still clouded by the haze of her recollections.

At that moment, her focus shifted from introductions to the sudden awareness of the marks on her neck. Her hands flew to the area, and she tried to piece together what had happened after their intense kissing session. The realization that the previous night had been more real than she had initially thought hit her with an unsettling force. 

She scanned the cafeteria discreetly, hoping to spot the person in question, but he was nowhere to be seen. The tension in her chest tightened.

"Looking for someone?" Four’s voice cut through her thoughts, causing her to jump. The table fell silent, and Michelle’s gaze met his. The intensity in his ocean-blue eyes made her feel as though he was piercing through her defenses, seeing every hidden thought and fear.

Four knew. And he was judging her.

"Uh, I’d say that’s exactly it. Our Michelle is looking for her knight from last night," the girl’s playful comment did little to ease the tension. "Everything okay?"

Four’s penetrating stare felt like an accusation. It was as if he believed she had committed a grave mistake. "I warned you. Now it’s up to you," he said cryptically before standing and leaving the cafeteria with what Michelle assumed was Lauren.

The weight of Four’s words sank in like a crushing wave. Michelle’s heart raced. "What’s he talking about?"

Sunny’s expression shifted to one of concern as the atmosphere in the room grew dense, almost suffocating. It felt as though the air had been sucked out of the cafeteria with Four’s departure, leaving Michelle gasping for breath.

"Nothing. He was referring to nothing," Michelle said quickly, trying to mask her worry. She grabbed a serving of scrambled eggs and placed them on her plate, attempting to divert attention. "What did you want to tell me?"

Sunny’s confused and worried expression vanished almost instantly, replaced by a look of keen interest. Her eyes sparkled as she leaned forward, resting on her elbows. “Don’t you notice anyone missing here at the table?”

Michelle looked around, her gaze searching for the missing individuals, but she didn’t spot anyone out of the ordinary. When she turned back to Sunny, the latter rolled her eyes with a hint of impatience. “Tina and Max.”

Michelle glanced around again, realizing with a start that Tina and Max were indeed absent. They weren’t sitting at any of the nearby tables, nor did she recall seeing them in the dorms.

“Are they the ones from last night?” Axl asked, nodding toward Sunny. Sunny confirmed with a nod.

But Michelle’s focus was abruptly shifted when the cafeteria fell silent. The sound of boots confidently marching across the room cut through the low hum of conversation, drawing everyone’s attention.

She turned to see Eric walking in, and what she saw made her breath catch in her throat. Eric Coulter was sporting a black eye and a split lip; his usually neat blonde hair was now disheveled, and dark circles marked his eyes. The sight of him was more intimidating than usual, not in the way that stirred strange sensations within her but in a way that demanded respect and silence.

He exuded a deadly aura.

“Yes, exactly them. Michelle, hey!” Sunny snapped her fingers in front of Michelle’s face, pulling her out of her stunned silence. “That was a spoiler, by the way.”

“What happened?” Michelle asked in a whisper, trying to stay discreet amid the tension in the cafeteria.

“Last night, after you left, your companion started a fight with one of the guys because, apparently, the guy looked at him the wrong way,” Tyson explained, his tone light but serious.

Axl chuckled. “He was completely hammered. You could smell the alcohol on him from a mile away.”

“So basically, after Eric came back, he and Four tried to break up the fight because things were getting out of hand. But Max? Max wasn’t satisfied with just getting beaten up; he lunged at Eric when Eric tried to pull him away, and that led to a full-blown fight between the two,” Sunny continued, her voice low.

“Max didn’t stand a chance. He was knocked out within the first minute, and if it hadn’t been for Eric’s friends holding him back, Max would’ve ended up dead on the Pit floor,” Sunny said, casting a quick glance at Bowie, who still looked troubled. “They ended up kicking Max out of the faction, making him factionless. Tina tried to stay behind, begging the leaders to let him stay, but it was no use.”

“It was entertaining, I’ll admit,” Axl said with a smirk. “But I’ve got to head out. Inspections in twenty minutes.” He gave Tyson a friendly pat on the shoulder and left, his seat now vacant.

Sunny took the opportunity to move closer to Michelle, sliding into the seat Axl had vacated. She rested her head on Michelle’s shoulder, her demeanor a mix of comfort and curiosity.

“So now they’re both factionless,” Tyson said, his gaze shifting from Eric to the two girls. “One thing I’ve learned since I’ve been here, long before Eric arrived, is that you shouldn’t get involved with him.”

Michelle fiddled with her food, her thoughts swirling. She felt a mixture of confusion and curiosity. “I don’t like him.”

“Nobody likes Eric, sweetheart,” Tyson quipped with a hint of humor.

“But you’re his friend,” Michelle said abruptly, her tone carrying an edge of seriousness.

Tyson seemed to consider her words for a moment before responding with a gentle smile. “Nobody is friends with Eric. We tolerate each other. He’s useful to have around and not stupid—he’s just hotheaded and a lot worse in many ways. His company can be pleasant, but no one considers him a true friend,” he said, glancing over at Eric. “No one has any real relationships with him. Not even Mia. That girl has been chasing after him since she arrived. I wouldn’t be surprised if one day we find her at the bottom of the chasm.”

Michelle followed Tyson’s gaze, observing Eric with a new sense of wariness. The faint bruises on his face only added to his intimidating presence.

“I don’t understand,” Sunny said, shaking her head as she looked at Tyson. “How does he have all this power? Why?”

Tyson sighed, a subtle hint of something deeper in his expression. “Eric is a soldier, and soldiers are liked by those in power,” he said, his words carrying a weight that Michelle and Sunny couldn’t fully grasp.

The days drifted by, leading up to the second phase of initiation, a module Four had warned would be the toughest. Michelle found herself lost in thought, unable to escape the disquiet that had settled over her.

No matter where she was—whether clutching a photograph of Anne in her dorm, standing on the faction's rooftop in the rain, or working out in the gym at night—Eric's absence was a constant weight on her mind. He hadn’t so much as glanced her way since that night, and perhaps that was for the best. Four and Tyson were right: Eric was dangerous. His cruel game of intimidation and the near-violent incident with Max had shown her just how perilous his influence could be.

Eric’s demeanor had shifted noticeably. The mocking smirks and casual arrogance had faded, replaced by a rigid, authoritarian presence. As the start of the second module approached, he seemed increasingly distant, spending less time within the faction.

Despite her efforts to avoid him, Michelle couldn’t help but search for Eric whenever she had the chance. Sunny, ever observant, noticed Michelle’s growing preoccupation.

One evening, as Michelle prepared to head to the gym, Sunny stopped her at the door.

“Would you tell me if something was bothering you?” Sunny’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. Michelle glanced at her, her concern evident, and nodded, pretending not to notice the full weight of Sunny’s gaze.

The corridors had grown colder with the onset of winter, and Michelle wrapped her jacket tighter around herself. It had been a while since she’d had a moment alone, a chance to lose herself in silence.

Upon reaching the gym doors, Michelle heard the muffled sounds of someone training. Peering inside, she saw Lauren, engrossed in her workout on one of the punching bags. Lauren’s expression hardened as she caught sight of Michelle, and without a word, she turned her back, focusing on a bag on the far side of the room. It was evident that the once-cordial relationship between them had soured.

Confused and feeling uncertain, Michelle decided to focus on her own workout, leaving Lauren to her space. But as Michelle pounded the bag, she felt Lauren’s gaze fixed on her back. The distraction was unwelcome, particularly with the stress of the upcoming initiation, Tyson’s warnings, and Eric’s unsettling behavior weighing heavily on her.

After a few minutes, Lauren cleared her throat. “I know Four warned you, but please be careful with Eric. He’s not someone you want to get involved with.”

Michelle stopped abruptly and turned to face Lauren, her confusion evident. “What do you mean?”

Lauren sighed, rubbing her face in frustration. “Four saw you the other night when Eric was following you. He decided to investigate and told me about it. I just want you to be aware.”

“It was a mistake,” Michelle interjected, her voice firm as she tried to deflect the concern.

“What do you mean?” Lauren asked, her tone a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Michelle hesitated, then admitted, “I wasn’t thinking straight. I just wanted to understand him better. It’s not like I wanted to get involved with Eric.”

Lauren’s expression softened, though worry remained. “Understanding him isn’t worth risking yourself. Eric’s reputation isn’t just because he’s a jerk or a bully. There’s something darker, more dangerous about him.”

Michelle sighed as she slipped on her jacket, acknowledging that her plans for a workout had been derailed. Instead, she headed towards the roof, where she could be alone with her thoughts. The idea of explaining her actions to Lauren felt too personal, too intimate. She wasn’t ready to share the details of what had happened, even though Lauren’s support was unwavering.

Despite her intent to be alone, Lauren was not easily deterred. She grabbed her belongings and followed Michelle up to the rooftop. "If you know, why did you do it?" Lauren’s voice carried a mixture of concern and frustration.

Michelle hesitated, struggling with her thoughts. Eric had made the first move, but if she were honest, the alcohol had played its part, blurring her judgment and amplifying the electric charge between them. But acknowledging that felt like making excuses.

When Michelle remained silent, Lauren grabbed her wrist, only to have Michelle shrug her off. “Michelle… it’s for your own good.”

“I already said it was a mistake,” Michelle retorted, her voice sharp as she leaned against the rooftop railing. “It won’t happen again.”

Lauren’s expression softened, and she stepped back slightly but remained nearby. “I hope so. You have potential; it would be a shame to waste it on someone like him.” They fell into a contemplative silence, gazing out at the city and the distant outlines of the other factions, savoring the quiet of the night.

“Ready for tomorrow?” Lauren’s question cut through the silence, sending a shiver down Michelle’s spine. The mention of the second phase of initiation triggered a wave of déjà vu. Michelle turned to Lauren with a pained expression.

“For— for the second phase?” Lauren asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty at Michelle’s reaction.

Michelle swallowed hard, her eyes brimming with tears as the weight of her emotions hit her. She took deep breaths, trying to steady herself before responding.

“No, how could I be?” The words felt heavy, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. The thought of her last moments with her best friend brought a pang to her heart. She wondered about Anne—where she was now, how she was faring, and what she was doing.

Michelle and Lauren spent the remainder of the night on the rooftop, waiting in silence for the first light of dawn. The conversations and warnings from Four, Lauren, and Tyson felt like pieces of a larger puzzle that Michelle struggled to piece together. She knew she had to stay clear of Eric, despite the dangerous allure he presented. It was clear that her safety was at stake, and she needed to tread carefully.

As dawn broke, all the initiates were summoned to a sterile room. The space was stark and unwelcoming, with chairs lined up against the walls, each one designated for an initiate. Two doors stood at the far end of the room, marking the beginning of what promised to be a grueling day. Michelle took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever lay ahead, knowing that the challenges of the second phase were about to unfold.

Four entered the room after them, his authoritative presence commanding attention as the initiates settled into their seats. “Welcome to the second module, the mental phase. It’s a departure from the physical trials you’ve faced so far, and it will test you in ways you don’t expect. This is the most exhausting part of the initiation, even though it’s not physical.”

He moved to stand in front of one of the two doors. “We have divided you into two groups to expedite the process.”

At that moment, the door across the room swung open to reveal Eric. “You will confront your deepest fears in the shortest time possible. You will be scored as in the first module, and those who fall below the red line will be eliminated.”

Eric’s gaze swept over the room with an intimidating intensity. “Only a few of you will make it into the faction. Another ten will be excluded. There is no room for error.”

Four positioned himself in front of the remaining door, pulling out two slips of paper from his pocket. He handed one to Eric, who read it aloud.

“Sunny.”

“Marcus,” Eric followed, calling out a boy Michelle recognized as one of the Dauntless-born, who entered the room after the blonde.

An uneasy silence settled over the room as the initiates awaited their turns. Some paced nervously, while others closed their eyes, trying to find calm. Michelle found herself caught between these two reactions, struggling to mask her own anxiety. She glanced at the clock on the wall, willing time to move faster.

Sunny emerged less than ten minutes later, her face etched with a look of near terror. Michelle started to approach her friend, but Sunny walked past her as if she were invisible, exiting the room without a word.

“Angela,” Four called out next.

Michelle’s concern for Sunny deepened, wondering what could have caused her friend to look so haunted. She felt a strong urge to follow her but decided against it, choosing instead to wait for her own turn and to find Sunny later.

After another fifteen minutes, the second door opened, revealing Marcus, who was assisted out by two Dauntless members. He looked as if he had seen a ghost—pale as porcelain, cheeks wet with tears, eyes red and vacant, and hands trembling uncontrollably.

“Connor,” Four called.

The boy rose with encouragement from his friends, and Michelle leaned her head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling to calm her nerves.

As time dragged on, Michelle pondered what her own fears might be, how she would confront them, and what she might see. The constant opening and closing of the doors, along with the shifting emotions of the initiates, did little to ease her anxiety.

By now, only a few initiates remained in the room, including Michelle—just one other girl and the remaining five boys, none of whom she knew well.

This time, both doors opened simultaneously, allowing the last two initiates to exit, visibly shaken. Michelle strangely hoped to be called next to end the torturous wait, but her name was not called again.

Two hours had passed since she last moved, her muscles aching from sitting in the hard wooden chair. Michelle glanced at the clock and, within five minutes, saw the door to Eric’s room open once more. This time, the boy who entered did not come out. Michelle looked up as Eric, still focused on the slip of paper in his hand, called her name.

“Michelle.”

Before she could react, he turned back into the room.

With great caution, Michelle stood up and entered the room with slow, deliberate steps, closing the door behind her. The room was stark and clinical, its white walls reminiscent of a laboratory. At the center was an armchair with the same apparatus she had seen during the Aptitude Test.

Eric was hunched over a computer next to the chair. The tension between them was palpable, a heavy silence hanging in the air. Michelle bit the inside of her cheek and moved forward, reluctantly taking a seat in the uncomfortable chair, ready to endure whatever came next.

The silence, usually something Michelle cherished, felt oppressive and unnerving now. She wished for any sound, even an insult, to break the suffocating quiet.

“It’s just like the Aptitude Test,” Eric said coldly, his fingers cold as they connected the wires to her temples, sending a series of small electric shocks through her skin.

He picked up a syringe from the table, giving it a slight shake. “Instead of drinking, we’ll inject the serum this time.” He grasped her wrist to steady her arm, and Michelle had to look away as the needle pierced her skin.

“Fear of needles? Pathetic,” he murmured as he withdrew the needle.

The serum felt cold, almost icy, and left a numbing sensation in her arm. But that feeling quickly faded as Michelle’s vision blurred, her consciousness slipping away under the serum’s effects.

When she opened her eyes again, her heart skipped a beat. She was disoriented, unsure of where she was. Struggling to stand, her legs trembled beneath her.

The room around her was cloaked in darkness so complete that she could barely make out her surroundings. A rustling sound behind her made her jump, and she let out a small scream. Instinctively, she moved backward and bumped into what she assumed was a desk.

Michelle tried to steady her breathing, her heart pounding with fear. The darkness seemed alive, and another noise from a corner of the room made her hyperventilate. There was something, or someone, with her in the room.

Desperate, she began to search the desk, her hands scrambling over every surface until she felt something round and short. She fumbled for a switch, and the flashlight flickered on weakly.

The light revealed an office-like setting, but its weak beam was almost useless. Michelle tried to adjust the switch, but it was no use. “Damn it!” she shouted in frustration.

Stepping out of the office, she found herself in a long, dark corridor. Her heart raced, each echo of her footsteps amplified in the oppressive silence. The corridor stretched out endlessly, and she could feel the weight of her isolation pressing down on her.

She had to move forward, driven by a mix of fear and determination. Each step felt heavier than the last, her anxiety mounting as she tried to make sense of her surroundings and figure out what awaited her next.

Taking a step forward, Michelle heard the rustling noise from behind her again. When she turned around, the sound was still there, more insistent. Panic surged through her, and she began to run down the corridor, the flashlight’s beam dimming with each passing moment.

Tears brimmed at the corners of her eyes as she spotted a control panel at the end of the corridor. Desperate to reach it, she sprinted faster, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The rustling noise grew louder, more ominous, as the light from her flashlight flickered and then went out, leaving her in suffocating darkness.

Each footfall felt like a mile as she ran, the control panel seeming to retreat with every step she took. Her heart raced, pounding in her ears, drowning out everything else.

In the pitch black, she extended her hand, feeling her way along the wall. She braced herself for a collision but kept reaching forward, fingers trembling as they searched for the control panel. Just as she felt something brush against her shoulder, the lights flared on, momentarily blinding her.

Michelle collapsed to the floor, curling up into a tight ball, trying to find solace in the fetal position. The harsh, bright lights made her eyes water as she clung to the ground, overwhelmed by the ordeal.

A hand suddenly grabbed her arm, jolting her from her disorientation. She flinched, her body tensing as she was dragged across the cold tile floor. The hand was firm yet gentle, guiding her away from the control panel and the nightmarish rustling sound that still echoed faintly in her mind.

She struggled against the grip, but when she looked up to see her attacker, she was surprised to see the silhouette of her mother. “Mom?”

The woman glanced briefly at her before continuing through what Michelle recognized as the central headquarters of the Candids. Strangely, the place was deserted.

When they reached a door, her mother shoved her inside, making her fall to the ground in front of a group of people. As Michelle looked up to see who they were, she only recognized a few of her mother’s colleagues.

Eric, watching the scene unfold on the screen that showed what was happening inside Michelle's mind, was immediately intrigued to see Jeanine Matthews among the people.

He glanced at Michelle in the chair before turning his attention back to the screen, curious to know if this was some sort of memory and whether it was connected to why Jeanine seemed so interested in her.

A man with red hair, dressed in a suit and tie, nodded to the woman behind him. She took a seat next to a woman Michelle recognized as Jeanine Matthews.

Michelle stood up, carefully adjusting her clothes and surveying the people before her.

“Ellie Black, don’t worry,” the man said, offering her a smile as she approached. “We just need you to answer a few questions for us, okay?”

Her mother glared at her for not responding, and Jeanine stepped in, noticing the young girl’s defensiveness. “Calm down, we don’t want to hurt you. We just need you to tell us everything you know about your father.”

If Eric was intrigued before, now he was thoroughly confused. The way they were speaking to Michelle seemed almost condescending, as if addressing a small child. A sudden realization struck him—this was indeed a memory, likely a traumatic one. The woman he assumed was her mother was able to drag her around effortlessly because, in this memory, Michelle was very young.

Michelle’s demeanor—hugging herself and looking distrustfully at the strangers—reinforced the idea. Even Jeanine appeared different, seeming younger.

“Do you know anything about his disappearance, Ellie?” asked the red-haired man.

Michelle remained silent.

“Answer!” her mother hissed, her face twisted in anger.

Jeanine approached her, gently stroking Michelle’s face with a tender expression. “If you tell us what you know, we might be able to find him. Bring him back to you,” the red-haired man cleared his throat slightly, and Jeanine silenced him with a sharp look. “Please be a good girl, Ellie.”

Michelle’s eyes welled with tears, but she remained silent, not even nodding. Jeanine’s smile faltered, and she stepped back, signaling the two men who moved in to restrain Michelle by her arms.

“No! No! Mom!” Michelle cried out as a third man retrieved a long syringe from a briefcase and injected the transparent liquid into her neck while she struggled desperately.

The onlookers watched impassively, as if waiting for something. Michelle’s discomfort quickly escalated into pain, causing her to sob uncontrollably.

“Another dose,” ordered the red-haired man.

“No... no,” Michelle pleaded through her sobs, but the third man prepared another syringe.

Eric watched as Michelle writhed in pain, restrained by the two men. He was puzzled by the unfolding scene, trying to understand what her fear could be until his gaze fell upon the syringe on the table beside him.

As Michelle’s cries grew more desperate, Eric could see that this wasn’t just a fear simulation—it was a vivid replay of a traumatic memory. He observed her face twisted in anguish, her body trembling uncontrollably as the second dose of the mysterious liquid was administered. The entire scene seemed to revolve around a deep, unresolved fear from her past, one that was being painfully relived.

Eric’s attention shifted back to the screen, trying to discern the details of Michelle’s memory. The sterile office environment, the authoritative figures, and her mother’s plea—all pointed to a significant and distressing event in her childhood. He noted how Michelle’s entire demeanor, her frantic movements, and her pleas were indicative of a child in intense fear.

The red-haired man, standing with an air of cold authority, spoke up again. “Ellie, if you don’t cooperate, this will only get worse. You know how this works.”

Michelle’s body was trembling violently, her tears flowing freely. Her mother’s expression was a mix of frustration and resignation. Jeanine Matthews, observing from a distance, seemed to hold an air of detached concern, as if this was a necessary, albeit uncomfortable, part of a broader plan.

Eric’s thoughts raced. The injections, the coercive techniques, the specific mention of her father’s disappearance—everything was piecing together into a disturbing picture. It was clear that Michelle was reliving a moment of profound fear and helplessness, a memory tied to her father’s unexplained disappearance.

As Michelle’s screams of agony grew softer, a determined look began to form on her tear-streaked face. With a painful effort, she managed to stop her sobbing, focusing all her energy on resisting the injections and the overwhelming fear. Her body shook with the effort, but her eyes were now filled with a steely resolve.

With a sudden burst of strength, Michelle broke free from one of the guards holding her. She staggered away, her legs weak but her willpower fierce. Her mother’s face, once stern and commanding, now reflected confusion and concern. The red-haired man’s eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised by Michelle’s unexpected resistance.

The room’s atmosphere shifted, the oppressive fear momentarily giving way to a glimmer of hope. Michelle’s focus sharpened, and despite the pain from the injections, she managed to grab hold of a nearby object—a metal lamp left on a desk. Using it as an improvised weapon, she swung it at the nearest guard.

The impact wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to create a momentary distraction. The guard staggered back, giving Michelle a precious opportunity to make a break for it. She darted towards the door, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. The dimly lit room was now a blur of shadows and uncertainty, but Michelle’s determination guided her steps.

Michelle jolted upright from the chair, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she collapsed into the corner of the room. Eric, initially taken aback by her sudden movement, quickly refocused on the computer, entering the simulation data with a practiced efficiency.

Without turning his gaze, he spoke, his tone carrying a hint of detached admiration. “You took longer than expected, but you’ve set a new record.”

Michelle finally looked up, her eyes meeting Eric’s. What he saw in her gaze shocked him—an icy coldness he had never seen before. It was not the usual apathy he had come to expect from her, but something far more chilling. The intensity in her eyes reminded him of that night, the night when the stakes had been so high.

For a moment, Eric felt a wave of unease wash over him, even tho he masked it. The coldness in Michelle's eyes seemed to strip away any pretense of normalcy, revealing an undercurrent of something darker. The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken understanding.

Eric’s eyes flickered briefly over the data on his screen before he turned his full attention back to her. “You’ve done well,” he said, but his voice lacked warmth. “Now, let’s see how you handle the aftermath.”

Michelle, still reeling from the intensity of her simulation struggled to compose herself. The experience had been more than just a test; it had uncovered fears and memories she had long tried to suppress. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart and regain control.

Eric’s eyes remained fixed on her, his expression unreadable. There was a tension in the room, a silent acknowledgment of the personal and emotional boundaries that had been crossed. Despite his coldness, Michelle sensed a faint trace of something else—curiosity, perhaps, or a reluctant respect for her perseverance.

Michelle rose slowly, her movements stiff and strained. She left the room without uttering a single word, her silence heavy with unresolved emotions. Eric watched her go, a deep conflict stirring within him. He clenched his fists, the weight of what he had just witnessed pressing down on him.

After a moment, Eric stood up, determination set in his features. He left the room swiftly, his mind racing as he made his way to contact Jeanine Matthews.